AN: This chapter was oddly difficult to write. Maybe my muse was just not with me when I tried to write it.

I just noticed that this story has reached over 10,000 views! Thank you to everyone that has read this so far. I hope you keep enjoying it!

Anyway, a review response.

Guest since Ch1: I get what you mean about an info dump. Have no fear, that ain't happening. Sometimes it makes sense to do one, but not in this case. Anderson may get one at a later date, but unless circumstances force otherwise, the council, Udina and especially our dear friend TIM won't get anything. Illium could make things difficult however. I have to ask as well, why do you keep on suggesting that Shepard will end up in the SWTOR universe? Maybe you're interpreting a few things wrong from what I've said or write, but I have no plans currently to sent anyone to the SWTOR universe from ME. For the helmet cam thing, don't worry, Kythelea has already shown some of the footage to Shepard.

When Kythelea does reveal her past to the rest of the crew, which lets be honest, will likely happen towards the end of the this story, she'll use it then.

On a side note, dude, get a proper account! I'd love to talk a little more about this stuff to you, but I don't want to risk spoilers on the main story!

Also, I've just discovered that Shepard, and by extension Kythelea, is supposed to be 31 in ME2, not 30. This makes Aethuwuld 26, and Niveah 23. Ages are mirrored on the Shepard side of the family.

Anyway, enough rambling from me, on with the story!

It had started well.

Shepard had brought Mordin to the council meeting as well as Kythelea, and he ws able to refute the rumours that Shepard had been working with Cerberus for several months, rather than just over a fortnight. It had actually been amusing to see the Salarian Councilor, Valern, look contrite when he realised that the STG, who were supposed to be the best intelligence organisation in the galaxy, had been fed bullshit and that they hadn't verified it properly. Added to the fact that Mordin was highly respected, as a scientist, doctor and agent, meant that his word carried a lot of weight.

She was also fairly sure that Valern's eyes had lit up like it was Christmas for a moment when the ageing salarian had walked in with her, before looking appropriately composed.

She had accepted their offer of a partial Spectre reinstatement. Like it or not, the whole 'above the law' status that went with being a Spectre would be damned useful, even if she was confined to the Terminus Systems. She had warned them that she could not guarantee keeping to the Terminus, but that she would try. That had been met with frowns, but when she had pointed out that she was fighting effectively a shadow war, and so had no idea where she could end up next, they had accepted the caveat, albeit grudgingly..

But she had been tempted to throw it back in their faces. She had been so tempted. Her dear friend TIM hadn't been lying when he said that the council had denounced everything she had been saying about the Reapers, Saren and Sovereign, and instead blamed it all on the Geth. To say she had been pissed was an understatement. She had been so angry she had been giving off biotic flashes for a good hour afterwards when she had first verified it herself, and that it was not Cerberus feeding her a line to get her on their side.

Up until that point, Kythelea had been silent. Shepard could feel irritation radiating off her, but not directed at her or Anderson. It was directed squarely at the council, if her body posture was anything to go by.

The meeting had been about to finish when things began to go downhill

"A question," Kythelea said, her voice partly synthesised. Shepard guessed it was to hide their similarity, as they had both been reticent about not giving away Kythelea's past. "Where are the Elcor and Hanar Councilors?"

There was silence. Kythelea kept talking. "I understand there being no Volus or Drell Councilors, they are client races of the Turians and Hanar respectively, they can make their voices heard that way. But I've been unable to find a reason for the Elcor and the Hanar to have one."

"They haven't earned their place on the council," Tevos, the Asari councilor said, a hint of reproach in her voice.

"But I thought the Citadel was supposed to be an alliance of races," Kythelea countered quickly, "but alliances don't work when factions are not represented. So I'll ask again. Where are the Elcor and Hanar councilors?"

"I don't believe you have introduced yourself miss…?" Valern cut in, trying to redirect the conversation. Kythelea's helmeted gaze turned to the salarian.

"Major Kythelea Blackstone," she responded curtly, "and since you've been so kind to speak up, care to explain the Genophage?" Valern opened his mouth to respond, but Kythelea kept going. "I get you were in the middle of a war, and if you hadn't stopped the Krogan the galaxy as you knew it would have ended, but you should have realised when you uplifted the Krogan something like this could happen." Valern closed his mouth even as Tevos opened hers, but Kythelea just kept going. "What's worse is that you didn't even give the Krogan the option of a way out. You didn't give them the option of a possible cure if they met certain criteria. You just left them to die and didn't care. And don't give me any of that 'it was our predecessors not us' bantha crap, cause you sure as hell haven't done anything to make things better."

"Blackstone," Shepard warned, placing a hand on the other woman's arm, but Kythelea shrugged her off. Anderson was looking between them, his face caught half way between surprise, amusement, and puzzlement. Despite the synthesised voice, it seemed familiar to him. The blue armoured woman's posture, body language and attitude seemed familiar as well, though the armour she wore was completely unrecognisable.

"You made out the Krogan to be monsters, so they became monsters. They think they have no hope, so they don't care. They don't try and rebuild because they believe that it is a waste of effort. And what have you done to change that view? Nothing." Kythelea was on a roll now, and would have kept going if Shepard hadn't stepped between her and the holos of the council. Kythelea glared at Shepard through her helmet.

"I'm not done Shepard," she growled, "I haven't even-"

"Started on the Quarians, I know," Shepard cut over her. At Kythelea's twitch of surprise, Shepard shrugged. "I thought you would have trouble with that after what you said about Forex." Every one else looked between the two, puzzled. They were ignored, as Shepard and Kythelea stared each other down. Finally, Kythelea snarled.

"Fine, you win Shepard," she hissed. Her head twitched to the side, making it clear she was looking over the other woman's shoulder at the holos of the council, who were looking equal parts irritated and confused. "I'll wait outside, away from the aruetii." With that, Kythelea spun on her heel and marched out. Before she reached the door however, it opened, admitting Udina. He frowned and opened his mouth as Kythelea stormed towards him, doubtless about to demand who the hell she was and just what she was doing in the office of the human councilor. Unfortunately, Kythelea was in no mood to be stopped. Plus, while she didn't recognise him personally, she did recognise his type. A.K.A, career politician and general areshole. So in the interest of calming herself down, she did the only reasonable thing.

She punched him in the face.

It wasn't her full strength. Augmented by her armour, that probably would have broken his neck. Instead, Udina suddenly found himself flat on his back, his head ringing as a vague blue form strode past him. The door hissed shut behind her.

Silence…. Then-

"Why is it that everyone gets to punch him but me?" Shepard said, in a tone that was most definitely not a whine. Shepard did not whine… Usually.

"I'm sure you'll get your opportunity Shepard," Anderson said with a chuckle. The other councilors looked surprised and somewhat annoyed, although Shepard swore that Tevos had a glimmer of amusement in her eyes.

"Councilor Anderson, I'm afraid there are somethings that still need to be discussed that are not related to the Commander," Tevos said, having the decency to sound a little apologetic. She knew that Anderson and Shepard were close. Shepard nodded.

"I'll catch you later Anderson," she promised, "I'm going to be on the Citadel for a day or so."

"It was good to see you Shepard," Anderson said, shaking her hand, "especially good to hear your position on Cerberus." Shepard had made it clear, pointedly so, that she was only working with Cerberus because they were the only ones willing to provide her with the resources to tackle the Collectors, and that they would be told exactly what they could do with themselves the moment the Collectors had been dealt with.

Shepard bid her farewells to the council, and headed out, walking past Udina, who was leaning against the wall, holding his head and groaning. She was tempted to hit him as well, but then decided that, despite the fact that Udina was an arsehole of the highest order, it would leave her feeling like she had kicked a puppy.

Outside, Kythelea was pacing, projecting an aura that promised pain for anyone who got in her way. Shepard could sympathise. The council could be pretty arrogant at times. Still, it generally wasn't a good idea to rail on at the council.

"Feeling better?" She asked after a moment. Kythelea glanced at her, and Shepard deduced that no, Kythelea was not feeling better yet. She sighed. "Just forget about them, we got other things to do."

"Does that include getting a drink?" Kythelea asked, "I think I need one after listening to that lot." Shepard paused, thinking.

"That can be the evening plan," she said finally, "right now we need to go talk to an advertisement." The last sentence was said with irritation. Kasumi had better be worth it if she was going to have to look like an idiot talking to an advertisement.

"Why can't someone join me with no strings attached?" Shepard grumbled as Kasumi walked off, vanishing from sight. Now she had to add a heist to her to-do list. She liked the asian thief, what with her cheeky, cheerful attitude, but having more loaded onto her plate wasn't so good. She didn't so much mind doing the heist, it actually sounded like it could be good fun, although knowing her it would end with lots of explosions.

What annoyed her was that she would have to act, play a part that wasn't her. She wasn't a ruthless merc boss. It simply wasn't her. There was a difference between a tough military officer and a tough merc boss. A tough military officer would knock you around if you messed up. A tough merc boss would beat you within an inch of your life, then toss you out on to the streets.

"What, I don't qualify?" Kythelea asked, her tone amused even through the filter.

"You have baggage like no-ones business though," Shepard replied with a smile that didn't reach her eyes. She knew what the baggage was alright. She was the only one who did. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Mordin glancing between them. His spidey sense (or should that be froggy sense?) was probably tingling like mad.

"Anyway," Shepard said, moving on quickly before Mordin could start asking questions, "I sent a message as we left the Normandy that everyone gets shore leave until tomorrow. I got some things to do before I can relax, but you two can go have some fun now." Mordin nodded and headed off, muttering something science-y that went over the heads of the two soldiers. Shepard was about to head off hunting for the supplies that Gardner wanted, but upon pulling up her omni-tool noticed the date and, more importantly, the time. Any cheerfulness dropped from her face. Without another word she spun on her heel and vanished into the depths of the Citadel, typing rapidly on her omni-tool, leaving Kythelea confused and bewildered. She pulled up her own omni-tool and looked at the date and time.

11/11/2185. 10:23am.

Shepard hurried through the Citadel, quickly grabbing a taxi and heading down into Zakera ward. She drummed her fingers on the door of the car as it zipped alone, constantly checking the time. It was going to be tight. Bringing up her omni-tool, she double checked the location, then almost leapt out the car as it landed. With a quick pace that was only just off a run, she made it to the doors of the church.

Shepard wasn't religious, not like Ashley anyway. However, she respected the beliefs of others, and always did her best to attend two church services over the years, something instilled in her by her parents. The first was Christmas, either a carol service in the weeks before, or a service on the day itself. Her rational was that if you were going to celebrate it, you had to remind yourself that there was more to it than just food and presents, and that it was in fact a religious festival, despite the fact that it was celebrated by most humans in one form or another, regardless of religion.

The second was different.

The second was Remembrance Day.

After Mindoir, after Elysium, this day had taken on new importance. Many members of the Alliance would, at the very least, observe a two minute silence to mark the ending of the first Great War, to remember those lost in conflict since. This time, there was some in particular she had to remember.

Kaidan Alenko.

The biotic had stayed behind with the bomb on Virmire, and had been vaporised in the blast. While she had lost men and women on Elysium, they had been part of a rag tag group, of which she was the only survivor. She hadn't really known them well, and while she had mourned them, their deaths did not weigh on her soul like Kaidan's did. She had left him behind, he hadn't fallen in the middle of a firefight. She had consciously, knowingly, left him behind, going after Ashley and the Salarians. She had had nightmares for a while afterwards, where his burnt and charred body had risen from an ash strewn field, face stricken with a combination of pain and anger. She had been slated for therapy after the hunting down the Geth, but then the Collectors had killed her. With her mind now so focused on the Collectors, she hadn't had anymore nightmares.

She hoped it stayed that way.

She slipped into the back of the church, sliding her pistol, the only weapon on her, in a rack in the entrance room, where police issue sidearms rested, indicating that a number of C-Sec personal were here, and also explaining why the rack was there in the first place. She continued through, accepting the order of service from a young girl at the door. She had made it just in time.

The minister stood, and began with the poem that had become a hallmark of such services, 'In Flanders Fields'. The congregation, standing silently, listened as other poems were read, each recounting war and its tragedies. Then came the silence, the Last Post. Shepard stood with her head bowed, eyes closed, just keeping back tears. To everyone else, Kaidan had died over two years ago.

To her, it had been a little over two months.

When Reveille played and her eyes opened, she let the tears tickle down her face. They were tears that had gone through death to be shed, tears that had waited more than two years to be shed. But with their shedding came a huge relief, a feeling of weight being lifted off her shoulders.

When she left the church an hour after entering, she did so with her shoulders back, and her head held high. She had paid her respects at last, and her soul was lighter for doing so.

When she fell asleep that night, she stood on a the same ash strewn field she had seen so many times before. But this time, when Kaidan rose from the ashes, he did not look pained, or angry. He was still burnt and bloody, but this time, there was a small smile on his face. He gave her a nod, a smile, and saluted her. Then he vanished.

Terminus Systems

The Dragoness finished her prayers. Where before on this day they had been more mournful, now they were hopeful. Circumstances had changed since the last time she had held this small, personal service, where she remembered those closest to her. All of them had fallen in combat, that or had been taken at the same time she had, and then not seen since.

They were likely dead. Batarian slaves tended not to last long.

She had been lucky to say the least, to have survived for 7 years as a slave, and only because she had proven to be very good with tech, especially starship tech. Otherwise she would have just been shot once she was too big to crawl into the tight engineering spaces in the Batarian ship that had been her home and prison. It had been the trust that the Batarians place in her to look after the ship after 7 years, thinking that she had been broken to their will, that allowed her to escape, as she was able to fake a serious drive core failure while the ship was on course to dock at Omega that allowed her to escape, as everyone became more concerned with getting off the ship than watching the slaves. She had fled the ship by stealing an ill fitting hardsuit and climbing out the trash ejector. Smelly, but it had worked. A streak of luck over the following year had earned her enough favours with a gunsmith to her the custom M-11 that now sat in its case, and then, at barely 16, she had performed her hostile takeover.

The rest was history.

She lit the candles on the table before her, each next to a picture that meant the world to her. She had gotten so a paranoid about them that their frames were designed to resist sniper fire, and could probably survive planetary re-entry. But they meant too much to her to lose.

She moved the match over to the last candle… and hesitated. Normally she would light it, just as she would light to the others, but now….

In the end she lit it. Not in remembrance of someone dead, but in hope of reconciliation. After a moment, she left her cabin, heading down to the bridge once more. Rani was there, tapping away at her terminal. The Asari glanced up as her boss entered.

"Mi'lady," she said. The Dragoness huffed.

"How many times have I told you not to call me that?"

"A few," Rani said with a tender smile. The two were not lovers, the Dragoness didn't swing that way, but Rani had been with her through thick and thin, and was her confidant above all else. The two were almost surrogate sisters to each other, despite the 218 year age gap. It had helped that the Dragoness had saved her from being sold as a slave shortly after taking command of her first ship. And decimating the slaver group that had been about to sell her.

"A few? Try a few hundred," Tolena called from her seat in the cockpit, her dual toned voice trilling slightly in amusement.

"Now now ladies," the Dragoness said teasingly, "no fighting while on duty." While the crew was close, some of them really could squabble like siblings. It made her feel like she was the mother to a lot of kids. If you forgot the fact that a number of the kids were older than her, some by centuries.

"Yes mi'lady," they said together, causing the Dragoness to roll her eyes behind her mask and the rest of the crew in the bridge to laugh. She took her seat on her throne, working through system reports, logistic approvals and raid and intelligence reports.

Eclipse attacked a Cerberus base… took someone hostage…

Carol's killed her latest boy toy… should start calling her Black Widow, that's number 6. Pity… he was supposed to be good looking…

Batarian slave run disrupted… four-eyed bastards…

Hello…

She pulled up a report from an agent of hers within the Blue Suns. Her eyes flicked down it, the froze. She reread it, slowly.

"Tolena!" She called out. The pilot spun her seat around, eye ridges going up in questioning. "Sending you coordinates. Set a course to them." When the turian's eye ridges didn't drop, she told her why they were going there. The bridge crew went deathly silent. They knew, like all of the ships crew, exactly who their boss was. Tolena swung her chair back around and began hammering away at her controls, altering the course, taking them to the nearest relay.

"ETA is 14 hours mi'lady," Tolena called back, "let's just hope that we don't get shot at when we arrive."

"You want us to get shot at you crazy woman," the Dragoness retorted, "you like dancing around ships and blowing out their engines. Sometimes I swear you think this is a frigate, not a heavy cruiser."

Tolena gave a bark of laughter. "What can I say mi'lady? It's part of my nature to make things go boom."

"As long as its not the Wyvern, The Dragoness muttered.

"You wound me!" Tolena exclaimed in mock protest. "I would never dare harm this beautiful ship!" She wasn't lying either, despite the faux offence in her voice. She'd rather cut off her own limbs before deliberately sabotaging the ship. Partly because she was the ships pilot, partly because the Dragoness would cut off her arms and legs before beating them to death with said limbs.

She would also piss of Eni in the process. Something that was considered to be ill advised at best, and a death sentence at worst.

"Honestly, we're more likely to find the place in pieces," Rani remarked from her position at her terminal. "Trouble does seem to follow them."

"True," the Dragoness chuckled. Her face dropped, becoming a combination of thoughtful and nervous. Rani picked up on her expression rather quickly.

"You'll be fine," she said, placing a hand on the other woman's arm. "Considering all that you've been through, and all that they have done, it'll become obvious why you didn't get back in contact." The Dragoness looked unconvinced. As she was on her ship, away form prying eyes, she wasn't wearing a mask, thus the worry in her eyes was clear to her XO.

"I hope you're right," she said, a hint of worry creeping into her voice. "Either way, I don't think she'll take it quietly."

Kythelea stepped back from her footlocker, letting it drop shut. It was one of two lockers she had, one for her armour and weapons, as well as sensitive items or information only from her dimension, with a password and fingerprint scanner built in, the password in Mandalorian just to make the lives of any thief (Miranda, and now Kasumi) more difficult, since Mandalorian was very different from any other language she could find in this dimension. Her second was normal clothes and the like. If someone were to go through it, they wouldn't find anything to give away her origins.

At least if Kasumi stole something from her, she would be doing it because she was a kleptomaniac, and not because she wanted her tech.

She did have to stifle down a chuckle at the thought of Kasumi. The petite woman wanted help with a heist of all things, and it seemed that Shepard would have to infiltrate a party. A smart party at that. That meant a dress, since Blues and armour were out the question.. When Kythelea had commented on that once she had located Shepard once more from where ever she had vanished too, the biotic woman had begun to glow slightly in irritation. It seemed she hated dresses, or at least the short ones that Kasumi had sent pictures of as suggestions. Kythelea could empathise though. Give her trousers over a skirt any day of the week.

"Major?" EDI said, pulling Kythelea out of her thoughts. She glanced towards the ceiling.

"What is it EDI?" She asked, thought suspecting the answer.

"Commander Shepard requests your presences in the conference room," the AI replied.

"Thank you EDI, tell her I'll be there shortly," Kythelea replied. She pulled on the bottom most bodysuit of her armour, anticipating why she was being called, then headed up to deck 2. Her eyes immediately narrowed upon entering. Miranda was in one corner, typing away on her omni-tool. Their eyes met, and the room grew colder at once. Nothing was said, but the hostility was still there. Garrus was in the other corner. He glanced between the two, and eye ridge going up, but said nothing. He wasn't foolish.

"Good, all here," Shepard said from where she leant against the table. She tapped a few buttons on her omni-tool, and a holographic ship popped into light over the table.

"This is Purgatory," she said, "it's a vast prison ship that houses some of the worst criminals that aren't dead or on Omega. Not long ago they accepted known as, according to the dossier I've been given, Subject Zero, supposedly the most powerful human biotic alive." Here Shepard glanced at Miranda, making clear that she suspected Cerberus had something to do with the name. You don't get a name like that from your parents after all. "Cerberus has paid a large sum of money to Purgatory in order to get Jack on our team. We're going to oversee the final transfer of money and the pick up of Subject Zero." She glanced at the assembled team. "Miranda, you're coming with us because you're Cerberus, you can double check the terms of the deal."

"The Blue Suns won't cross us," Miranda stated. "They're getting paid too much to risk it." Her eyebrow had gone up slightly at the subtle jab at her and who she worked for.

"You'd be amazed," Garrus said, "the number of times that I saw deals go sour on Omega, some of excellent deals, was ridiculous. We'd end up just waiting until only a few mercs were left and mop up the survivors. Admittedly those deals didn't involve millions of credits, just tens of thousands… but still."

"Never underestimate greed, whether of power or money," Kythelea put in. She could see both sides of the argument. "They might think by taking us captive or killing us they could gain more." Her mouth turned up in a humourless smile. "I've seen it myself."

"Why do you think you're coming Blackstone?" Shepard said with humourless chuckle. "You're a walking arsenal. They'll think twice." She turned to Garrus. "You're here for two reasons. One, the guy who runs this place is supposed to be a Turian. You can give me info on him by appearance that I might miss. Two, you know mercs like the back of your hand. If there's a better merc killer I don't know of them."

"That's because you haven't looked in a mirror Shepard," Garrus said dryly. "Now me, I don't look in a mirror. It'll shatter due to being unable to reflect such perfection back."

"You mean your hideous visage?" Shepard tossed back at him with a grin, "That explains why I had to replace all the mirrors in the men's washrooms on the SR-1 every time we docked." Miranda and Kythelea were watching the exchange like they were following a game of tennis, eyes flicking back and forth.

"That was Wrex," Garrus rebutted smoothly, "he would grin every time he finished cleaning his teeth and they'd shatter."

"Wrex is a Krogan," Shepard pointed out, "I don't think they do clean their teeth."

Garrus paused at that. "True," he conceded. Shepard's grin grew wider.

"So it was your fault then?" Garrus spluttered and stuttered for a reply. Shepard laughed, Kythelea chuckled, and even Miranda was stifling a grin. Finally Garrus tossed his arms up in exasperation and fell silent with a huff.

"All right," Shepard said when she finished laughing, "gear up everyone, we arrive in an hour."

AN: If you are wondering why I put in the Remembrance Day service, the answer is simple. I am the child of a soldier. I plan to go into the army myself one day. Above all, we must remember just how many die in battle, to keep us from having to see first hand the horrors of war.

There are unfortunates in the Middle East who are dealing with it right now.

On to more positive things, there are a few more hints towards just who the Dragoness is. I'm tossing up between having her identity revealed within the next couple of chapters, or dragging it out longer. We'll see. Though if someone doesn't get who she is after this chapter, I'll be a little surprised. The clues are there... can you decipher them?

Rate, review, and I'll see you next time.

EDIT 30/11/16: Replaced 'Dar'mando', which was a) not an actually word b) the incorrect word for the circumstances. It has been replaced by 'Aruetii'.